Page 31 of Love's a Script
Mary fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t breach Ruben’s privacy as a current client. “He’s my—I suppose we’re…acquaintances,” she finally said.
“Do you know if he’s single?” the maid of honor asked. “Because Bethany is single.”
“Oh, my god, stop, you guys,” Bethany said with mock modesty. “But is he?”
The friends laughed, and Mary, uncomfortable, replied, “Ah, yeah. Yeah, he is.”
“Could you introduce us?”
“I’m off duty,” Mary said with a laugh she couldn’t help including even though she knew its undermining effects.
“All you have to do is make an introduction,” said Vanessa, appearing spirited in a way she’d not been all morning.
Mary hesitated, but under the other women’s fixed gazes, she buckled. “All right, but I’ll first make sure he’s interested in meeting someone.”
There was a knock at the hotel door that turned out to be the groom and two of his groomsmen with sandwiches and juice boxes for lunch.
And as the meals were divided up, Mary retreated to the suite’s bathroom for a moment alone. She needed to rein in her annoyance, but she took her job seriously and this was not how she worked. As a matchmaker she didn’t just throw people together. There was a method. Things to consider, and Mary knew nothing about Bethany except that the cool-toned bridesmaid dress had suited her complexion the best.
Mary sat on the edge of the giant bathtub and flipped her head over her knees. The rush of blood gave her the impression that all her worries were draining out of her, and when she turned back upright, she was slightly dizzy but thinking clearer. A simple introduction did not have to bear the weight of her entire matchmaking practice. Plus, if Ruben and Bethany made a genuine connection, Mary would’ve unofficially but technically succeeded in matching him, and he would no longer be a client. No more contact, no more contention about thinking he was good-looking. She’d be free.
Mary moved to stand from the tub, but a flicker of light caught her eye. She cocked her head for a second look, and there, just behind the basin sink, lay Vanessa’s emerald-and-diamond-cluster engagement ring.
Chapter Seventeen
Ruben had been on his laptop at the desk next to the TV credenza when Mary returned to the hotel room, announcing, “I’ve got wedding cake!”
“I’m guessing things went well with the search party,” he said as she showcased the stout cylinder covered in pale blue icing.
“Yes, they did,” she said. “You want some?”
He definitely did. It was the first appetizing food in a couple of days. They cleared the table and found an extra chair. They had forks but no plates, so they ate the lemon raspberry cake directly from the serving stand.
“It was complete luck,” she told him, relaying the story of her victory. Ruben listened, enjoying the relaxed talk until Mary paused to recall a detail and held her fork in her mouth. The tines left an impression on her plush bottom lip that Ruben watched slowly clear.
“What?” Mary asked, freezing. She swiped her hand across her mouth. “Do I have icing all over my face?”
“No, you’re good. You got it.” He cleared his throat. “So how do you know the bride and groom again?”
“They’re former clients.”
“Really?” He didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but it was one thing to conceptualize being matched and another to know real people were committing to each other based on a process he was currently going through.
“Yeah, I matched them eighteen months ago.”
“Wow,” he said. “Do you ever set people up in your personal life?”
“I’ve introduced friends who ended up seeing each other for a bit. But my sister is with her high school sweetheart, and my dad is…well, he’s dating.”
The slight edge in Mary’s tone made Ruben ask, “That a bad thing?”
“It’s not, it’s just…” She put her fork down. “My sister and I think he’s being catfished.”
“Why do you suspect that?”
“There are a few red flags and some inconsistencies, but we’re planning to hire a private investigator to make sure.”
Ruben nodded sympathetically, remembering a segment they’d almost included on the show months ago about the increasing sophistication of love scams in the era of artificial intelligence. “If you need a PI recommendation, I know a guy.”
